Why Christian Writers Write: A Meditation

by Stephen R. Clark

Writing is a painful, sublime joy. I think only writers will understand this.

Madeleine L’Engle declares, “The artist cannot hold back; it is impossible, because writing, or any other discipline of art, involves participation in suffering, in the ills and the occasional stabbing joys that come from being part of the human drama.”

The call of writing for writers is both blessing and curse.

A popular quote about writing, and one I’ve used often, is attributed to Gene Fowler: “Writing is easy; all you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.”

I’m not sure how it relates, but it’s intriguing to me that before he became a journalist, Fowler was a taxidermist.

He gets it right on the painful side of writing. Especially when faced with deadlines that reset relentlessly as they do in the newspaper business. Fowler worked on papers in Denver and New York before launching into books and later screenwriting.

The imagery, of course, conjures up Jesus praying and sweating drops of blood in Gethsemane. He is called to a daunting task yet, perhaps, is there an out? No, just as there really is no escape other than writing for a writer.

It’s funny how a writer’s head can be filled with perfect sentences and paragraphs on a topic, but when sitting down to put them on paper or pixels, chaos and randomness breaks out! The thoughts and the words tacked to them scatter into incoherence and have to be wrestled and wrangled onto the page.

It’s exhausting! But a rewarding compulsion.

Novelist and essayist Anna Quindlen counters Fowler’s thought stating, “Sometimes writing is a chore, for sure, but sometimes it is an uncontrollable urge and the antidote to pain.”

Those of us who are writers understand that “uncontrollable urge.” I’ve experienced it often when, because of the daily requirements of life and duty, I’ve been unable to find the time to sit and write. Ideas are always bouncing around in my head like bubbles in a shaken soda bottle. The words pressing to get out.

A friend of mine who is a writer and professor of English, Danny Anderson, lamented on Facebook once, “Was finally able to write something. Yes it probably sucks, but it still felt good to get it out. I find that my best writing tends to be things that only I could write – the downside to that is that it’s probably only me that cares about it in the first place. Oh well.”

All the common emotions that haunt a writer are in his lament. Satisfaction in finally writing. Fear that it’s crap. Delight in getting it out. Doubt that anyone else will like it. Taken all together, his post expresses the pain and joy, the frustration and exhilaration that is writing.

“I know of nothing more thrilling than the arrival of a good idea for a story,” declares Pulitzer winning author Tracy Kidder. I agree, but this is also when the pressure starts to build. The idea strikes, you know it’s a good one, and now you have to deal with it.

The reality is that not everyone can breathe life into words and bring writing alive on the page. Maybe this is the connection to taxidermy. Anyone can stuff a dead animal, but it takes real talent and skill to end up with something that looks realistic — as if it’s actually still living ready to take off. When this happens in writing, the joy one feels is euphoric.

In her poem, “”Holy, holy,” Marge Piercey captures this feeling.

…. From time to time

usually but not always when writing

something would seize me, bear me

up and out of myself as in an eagle’s

talons. I’d almost forget to breathe.

It was never for long. I’d return

shocked, my mind on fire, a rushing

in me, a coming together, clarity.

I know when I’m finally able to get traction on an idea, tame the various components, and herd the thoughts coherently onto the page, it is as if my mind is on fire, and my heart. Poet Seamus Heaney agrees, explaining, “I’ve always associated the moment of writing with a moment of lift, of joy, of unexpected reward.”

There is pleasure in the physical and mystical act of writing, the invisible motion of plucking those just right words out of the ether and placing them perfectly on the page.

John Steinbeck said, “I write because I like to write. I find joy in the texture and tone and rhythm of words. It is a satisfaction like that which follows good and shared love.” Yes, indeed.

Besides the joy and pain, for those of us gifted with this marvelous affliction, writing is something we need to do out of obedience.

Eric Liddell of Chariots of Fire fame was a missionary and a runner. He said, “I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure.”

He also advised, “If, in the quiet of your heart, you feel something should be done, stop and consider whether it is in line with the character and teaching of Jesus. If so, obey that impulse to do it, and in doing so you will find it was God guiding you.”

For a writer who is also a Christian, writing is something that should be done, must be done. What we write about is weighed to determine if it is indeed “in line with the character and teaching of Jesus.” And when all aligns — calling, idea, desire, and gift — the outcome is spurred by the Holy Spirit in us, a mighty rushing wind of pain and joy, release and redemption.

We write because that’s how He made us. And it is good.

In his poem, “The Trouble With Poetry,” Billy Collins reveals,

But mostly poetry fills me

with the urge to write poetry,

to sit in the dark and wait for a little flame

to appear at the tip of my pencil.

And so, we who are writers, go through our days, in darkness and in light, waiting for that little flame, not just to appear at the tip of our pencil, but to ignite our hearts and minds with the next thing we are being tasked to share. Article, story, poem, testimony, whatever it is God is nudging us to bring into being and put out there in the world to declare His glory and advance His kingdom.

This is why we write.

Love Letters

by Randy Petersen

If you’re looking here for inside tips on the writing business, you might be disappointed, but you shouldn’t be. I’m recommending a tool for Christian writing that’s absolutely essential.

Not a tech gadget. It won’t correct your spelling or grammar or theology. (I am intrigued, however, by the idea of a Theolo-check feature, where a balloon pops up, saying, “This sentence seems dangerously antinomian.”)

But no, it doesn’t even feel right to call this a “tool” for writing—though without it all your lovely prose will have the subtlety of a clanging gong. Maybe we could call it a program or process or principle, or something else beginning with P.

All I know is, it’s a must-have for Christian writers. Without it, you might as well highlight everything in your portfolio and hit Delete.

Priority. That’s the word I was looking for. It’s far more important than all the tips and tricks, themes and schemes, project-getters, deadline-setters, and detail-vetters. The Christian writer who doesn’t have this, according to one renowned expert, is “nothing.”

No need for further suspense—since you surely figured it out about 100 words ago. What is this indispensable tool/principle/priority?

Love.

You know that, but it’s incredibly easy to forget. Especially these days, when words become weapons. Christians feel embattled. We have so much to fight for, and even more to fight against, it seems. Shouldn’t we use our way with words to show our enemies how wrong they are?

Well, no. Whatever our “ministry of reconciliation” is (2 Corinthians 5:18), it surely involves more wooing than weaponry. Shouldn’t our conversation, spoken or written, be “full of grace, seasoned with salt” (Colossians 4:4)? Might our facility with language actually help to turn enemies into friends?

The Most Important Thing

I can hear you yawning. News flash: Christian blog comes out in favor of “love”!  So what else is new? Love has long been on the short list of highly valued Christian principles, along with truth, faith, holiness, humility, and so on.

But love is not just one of the virtues, it’s the top priority for those who follow Jesus. By my count, there are eight New Testament passages that clearly put love in that highest-priority position. Look for yourself. You might find only six, or maybe twelve. But the language is consistent: love isn’t only good, it’s the most important thing.

What’s the most important commandment in the Law? Well, two, actually, says Jesus—love God and love your neighbor. At the Last Supper, Jesus gives his disciples a “new commandment.” This will be the distinguishing mark of his team: love. Paul keeps saying that love is the fulfillment of the law, and there’s that amazing thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians. Without love, we’re toast. Faith and hope, as great as they are, can’t hold a candle to love.

So how can we, as Christian writers, show love to God, to our neighbors, and even to our enemies?

That’s the question to ask. Not, How will I build my platform? Or, What’s the best way to outline an award-winning article? Or, Should I capitalize pronouns for deity? These are all part of the work we do, but the most important thing is love. How will we show love in our work?

The Ephesian Season

The book of Revelation begins with a report card for seven congregations. As you might expect, the church of Ephesus—founded by Paul, shepherded by Timothy, possibly counseled by John—gets pretty good grades for their “hard work” and “perseverance.” They stood up for God’s truth against false teachers. All good.

“Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first” (Revelation 2:4).

The embattled believers fought valiantly in tough times, but they left the most important thing behind. I wonder if we’re in a similar time now, an Ephesian season, if you will. We’re fighting tenaciously for truth and survival, but what are we neglecting?

We mustn’t let love become a casualty of our skirmishes. Let’s use our literary gifts to show and share love. Let’s put forth that first-mentioned fruit of the Spirit every time we put our fingertips on that keyboard, wooing our readers, both friends and enemies, and glorifying our passionate God.

Will you join me in the prayer Paul offered for those Ephesian believers? “I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:17-19).

Snow on Snow

by Randy Petersen

One of the most beautiful Christmas carols is kind of a downer. The first stanza of “In the Bleak Mid-winter” paints a vivid picture of the cold, hard world that Jesus enters.

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

As a writer, I love the bold simplicity of “snow on snow, snow on snow.” That is exactly how snow falls, isn’t it? “Water like a stone” is the common phenomenon of freezing, but here it’s a life-giving substance turned lifeless. With the most basic words, the poet puts us in a bleak world.

Christina Rossetti was already a well-known poet when she wrote this for an American magazine in 1872. (Nice to know, for this blog, that she was a “Christian Freelance Writer,” like us.) Her parents, emigres from Italy, had hobnobbed with England’s literati, until her father took sick. The family then struggled financially. Despite her own health problems—including a nervous breakdown at age 14—Christina was a prodigious poet in her teens. She regained the attention of the arts crowd, eventually publishing several books of poetry.

So, while she had some success, she also experienced a few “bleak mid-winters” along the way.

At this point, the fact-checkers among us are crying out, “But it wasn’t mid-winter! The fact that shepherds were tending their flocks by night suggests the spring season, before Passover. In the foothills of Judea at that time, there would be no snow on snow, snow on snow!”

Right. And the Bible never mentions a stable (just a manger) and the word for “inn” probably refers to the guest room in a house, so there was no innkeeper, and we don’t know how many magi showed up—maybe two, maybe twelve. Every December, we quibble with the Christmas story as it has been told through the centuries. Every generation seems to add a detail to fill out the biblical story. Early on, the magi got names and ethnic identities. One of the earliest English dramas we have, from medieval times, is “The Second Shepherds’ Play,” a clever farce about doubt and devotion. Later we got Good King Wenceslas, Santa, Rudolph, the Little Drummer Boy, an angel named Clarence, and poor Grandma getting run over.

Snow on snow. Snow on snow.

Despite our quibbles, Rossetti’s lyrics do what preachers have always done, applying essential truth to the current culture. It’s what poets do too. So maybe it wasn’t snowing on the shepherds, maybe it wasn’t a frozen world—physically. But is there any better way to describe humanity’s need for a Savior, then or now?

After the first stanza, the “bleak mid-winter” thaws out. Slowly. Gently. Rossetti keeps contrasting the angel throngs in heaven with the simple scene on earth, a mother cradling her child, kissing him. The water, once hard as stone, begins to trickle, bringing life to a needy world.

And the final verse brings it home, simply but powerfully.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.

Don’t Burn Your Cargo

By Ann-Margret Hovsepian

A couple of my writer friends were recently discussing the works of Anne Lamott and one of them commented: “I’m not that crazy about her fiction, which sometimes veers to the Jesus-y, but Bird by Bird is one of the best books on writing ever written.” The reference to Lamott’s fiction piqued my interest because I’m a “Jesus-y” kind of girl, but it may have had the opposite effect on others. Lamott must know that not everyone appreciates it when she weaves her faith into her writing, but she’s made a choice between sticking to her principles and pleasing the masses.

All Christian writers face this decision at some point.

Clovis Chappell used to tell the story of two paddleboats in his home state of Tennessee. The boats left Memphis about the same time, traveling down the Mississippi River to New Orleans. Along the way, sailors from one boat began commenting on how slowly the other boat was moving. Words were exchanged, and soon the teasing escalated into a full-on challenge to out-sail each other. The competition didn’t last long, however. One of the boats began to run out of fuel because the coal that should have been enough for the trip wasn’t enough for a race. Thinking himself clever, one sailor threw some of the ship’s cargo into the ovens, which worked well as fuel and, eventually, that boat won the race. Unfortunately, the cargo they were transporting was all burned up.

God has entrusted Christian writers with precious cargo, too: the truth of the gospel, His Word. Sometimes we feel like our progress is too slow. It seems to be taking a frustratingly long time to build the audience or platform we desire. When we feel that way, we may look for ways to speed things up and get ahead, rationalizing that we want to be more effective in our writing ministry. But if we’re making sacrifices along the way that compromise the truth we are called to communicate, we end up effectively burning our cargo and becoming ineffective—if not a detriment—in God’s kingdom.

Suppose you poured your heart and soul into a devotional or memoir that testified to God’s transformative power in your life and a publisher agreed that it was a beautifully written piece with the potential to reach thousands, if not millions, of readers. There’s just one catch: The editor says your piece is too Jesus-y. “You talk too much about being born again and that’ll push some readers away. Can you tone down the Bible-speak?” (We once had a family leave our church because they thought our pastor referred to John 3:16 too often, so this scenario is not far fetched.)

You can absolutely take the shortcut to success and wealth by diluting biblical truths in the interest of selling more articles and books. The opportunities are there. The market for wishy washy messages is there. If you have mastered the craft of writing, the sky’s the limit. But I plead with you to not take this path.

Abraham thought he’d take a shortcut to producing an heir and there was a high price for that foolish decision. Esau, too, looked for a way to quickly curb his hunger, and he lost his inheritance and the blessings reserved for him. There are many other examples in the Bible of people who yielded to temptation because they took their eyes off the Lord.

But Jesus did not. Jesus faced gruelling temptations, yet He rejected the easy path to take the right one.

I’m not suggesting a Christian writer can’t make a living from his or her craft. Writing can be our ministry and our work at the same time. Yet we must never lose sight of why we write, which will influence what we write, even as we work on how we write. In the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30), the servants who multiplied the resources they were given didn’t do it for their own gain or glory. They worked hard because they were faithful to their master; they did it for his gain. Still, their diligence was rewarded, and their master was pleased.

When that is our motivation, we will also succeed in our work. We may not become wealthy, we may not become household names, but the Lord will be pleased, and He will bless and multiply the talents we have used and invested wisely.

Truth Be Told

by Randy Petersen

We have a truth crisis in our world today. I’m not the first person to notice that and I won’t be the last. Pontius Pilate’s question is ever before us, “What is truth?”

For Christian writers, it may come as a surprise that the most important discipline of our time is not theology or communication, or even political science, but epistemology—how people come to believe what they believe. This is the conflict playing out every day on social media and at family dinner tables. Perhaps we could manage honest disagreements, but this is trench warfare. Both sides are dug in.

More than ever, journalists, writers, and editors have important roles to play in hunting for and laying out the truth. We need diligence to research it, wisdom to grasp it, skill to explain it, and courage to publish it. Temptations abound. Let me suggest several notable ones that afflict not only front-line journalists, but also those who process and present their findings.

The Scoop

Old news is no news. You want to beat the competition to the story, so you might run with a partial set of facts before the full truth of a matter has surfaced. You grab quotes from someone with less expertise because the real experts need more time to study the issue. Your analysis consists of snap judgments that ignore key complexities. You dumb down the story, but you get it out there first.

The Splash

“If it bleeds, it leads,” news editors used to say. So you’re tempted to tweak the facts to make a story more sensational. You amp up a story with far-fetched questions and sly innuendo. No outright lies, but the presentation splashes suspicion all over your subject. You succeed in attracting attention to a non-story, but at what cost?

The Spin

Nowadays every story has a spin. A ball game, a good deed, a store opening, a church picnic. You might think such stories are immune, but there is probably someone spinning each of those events right or left. (Why no potato salad this year? A protest against Idaho politics?) You will be tempted (and perhaps required) to spin your story in a way your audience will accept, confirming “truth” they already believe. But is it really the truth?

Ask the Journalists

An excellent article in last winter’s Wheaton magazine quoted several journalists connected with Wheaton College. “I came to the conclusion that the job of the journalist was to pursue truth,” said UPI veteran Wes Pippert. That might seem obvious to anyone who has studied journalism, but as we’ve seen, nowadays it’s not a sure thing.

When every cell phone is essentially a printing press, people have immense publishing power, even if they aren’t “prepared for the difficulties of sorting fact from fiction and understanding a range of ideological perspectives,” according to the Wheaton article’s author, Bethany Peterson.

Jeremy Weber of Christianity Today describes some of the journalistic temptations I’ve noted. “If that’s what gets eyeballs and shares, then you want to lean toward, of the possible framings, the more aggressive one, or of the possible headlines, the more hyperbolic one.” By contrast, he affirms the importance of “your commitment to truth and love of neighbor.”

In a time when the profession of journalism is often maligned, it’s refreshing to see Christians affirming their calling. “I try to tell the truth,” says Ruth Graham, a religion correspondent for The New York Times, “but also in a way that lets readers make up their own minds.”

For Sarah Pulliam Bailey, religion reporter for The Washington Post, it comes down to the Golden Rule—but that doesn’t mean refusing to say anything negative about anyone. “I want the truth,” she says. “I want someone to write a piece about the good, the bad, and the ugly about how we’re living life.”

All Truth

A philosophy professor of mine became known for the phrase “All truth is God’s truth.” As he saw it, we needn’t fear any academic pursuit, if we are indeed pursuing the truth. The same goes for the pursuit of truth in journalism. May we doggedly develop not only our nose for news, but also our nose for nonsense. Let’s sniff out unfounded claims, overspun stories, and illogical conclusions in our relentless passion for the truth.

A Writer Walks Into a Church…

by Stephen R. Clark

I believe some of the best writing in all Christendom can be found in churches. Especially in smaller churches. Yes, some of this will be found in the sermons pastors sweat out week after week—producing the equivalent word count of a novel every year.

But beyond the sermons, there are bulletins, Bible studies, blog posts, websites, devotionals, emails, announcements, curriculum, newsletters, and so much more being crafted regularly that exhibit some of the best writing a lot of people will ever be exposed to.

Frankly, a publisher would do well to aggressively scout these non-sermon church sources to find the better authors to write the books and articles they need. Just saying.

Some of these writers are you and me serving our churches with what we likely see as the big gift God has blessed us with.

But what about those complementary gifts and skills that we can also offer to our churches? Disciplined writers, like you, possess a plethora of talent that all churches need:

• Administration. We know how to organize, set priorities, manage processes, and run a good meeting.
• Knowledge. We generally know what’s happening in the evangelical world, possesses a broad knowledge of useful materials, can assess good studies to pursue, and are discerning of who are reliable authors and who to avoid.
• Interactive. We know how to interview people and can customize studies for various groups.
• Process. We understand the difference between pacing for speech and reading, can provide proofreading, edit material for clarity and conciseness, and bring the editorial process to bear.
• Messaging. We can craft messages for various audiences, grasp what makes a good website, write blog posts and content, and establish branding.
• Creativity. We are able to teach Sunday school classes, can create readings and liturgy elements, and can add the written word to creative arts efforts.
• Visuals. Some of us are skilled in photography, audiovisual, videography, have an eye for design, and maybe even a little talent for graphics.
• Technology. Most of us are reasonably competent with a variety of software and comfortable with computers.

There are probably more that you could add to this list.

As writers, we write to be read as well as get paid. We also enjoy a little recognition now and then. So work that brings in no income and where we are often completely invisible may be less than attractive. Yet it can be highly rewarding.

When you’re looking for a market for your writing and other skills, consider the market of your church. They need help and most are hungry for it.

Serving your church, bringing all of your gifts and talents to bear, is an excellent way to hone your craft as well as strengthen your spiritual muscles.

When serving your church, the pay and recognition, in worldly terms, are lacking. But the rewards are moth and rust resistant while living out the fullness of your calling as a writer and so much more

Fearless Writing

by Stephen R. Clark

A friend from church recently shared a meme bearing a quote from Salman Rushdie: “A poet’s work is to name the unnamable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep.”

My friend said, “This is you!”

I took it as a compliment, but also as a bit of a challenge. A challenge I confront regularly as a Christian writer.

Several months ago, one of my grandnieces, Ellian Chalfant—an exceptional writer and a student at Gordon College—blogged about last summer’s racial unrest, explaining, “I’ve struggled to find the words to say. I know that as a writer, Christian, and human being I’m called to speak up for my brothers and sisters facing heartbreaking injustices in this country.”

Her bold acknowledgement that, as a Christian writer and fellow human being, she is “called to speak up” kind of smacked me upside of my face.

And then the meme my friend shared got the other cheek.

Why?

Because sometimes writing can be a source of fear and trembling for the writer. Especially when it comes to potentially explosive topics like racial injustice, social ills, sin in general, and so on.

The challenge is related to the caution in Proverbs 29:25—“Fearing people is a dangerous trap” (NLT).

While I get encouragement from readers, I also get pushback. Sometimes the pushback is a little harsh, and sometimes it comes from surprising sources. So, negative reaction is one part of the “fearing people” thing.

Another is sourced in my own heart, the fear generated from the man I am as shaped by a multitude of forces over time. I fear being wrong, making a mistake, looking stupid.

Nearly every time I metaphorically pick up my pen, I wrestle with the thought, “Who am I to write about this? What do I know? There are many others far more qualified than me!”

Writing is a process of exposure. When a writer writes he lays open his heart, reveals what he really thinks about something, and becomes very vulnerable.

And yet, as writers knowing this, we are still compelled to write.

Let me qualify that a bit more. As Christian writers, fellow sojourners on this earth, gifted by the Holy Spirit with a different way of seeing and the skill to share that insight, we are still compelled to write.

I put the question of fear to a group of fellow Christian freelancers. One, Ann-Margret Hovsepian, offered this guidance: “What helps me a lot is the conviction that my job is to serve my readers and not necessarily to please them. If I’m being faithful and obedient to God in using my talents for his glory and pleasure, how readers respond to my writing is none of my business. That doesn’t mean I don’t care what they think, but I cannot worry about it.”

Good answer. Although I assure you, I can worry and do care! Even though I probably shouldn’t. At least not a lot, anyway.

Right around when I posted the question, I participated in a webinar by author Alan Noble on what Christian writing should be. He offered these three principles: (1) God calls us to desire the good of our reader; (2) The Truth exists, and it is beautiful and good and worth fighting for; (3) Hope.

It was startling how closely what he said tracked with what both Ellian and Ann-Margret shared. Perhaps God was trying to tell me something.

For writers like me, the “dangerous trap” of Proverbs 29:25 is to fear writing, to freeze up, to hold back. Yet that verse concludes, “. . . trusting the Lord means safety.”

Jesus was a great instigator of strong reactions. It even got him killed. Yet, we are called to be like Jesus, to bear the image of God, to be a voice in the wilderness. For better or for worse.

I would argue that, most of the time, what we write leads to the better.

Randy Petersen, reflecting on the same unrest as Ellian, wrote this in a blog post:

“We writers will not change the world, except when we do. We can carry on the work we’ve always done—nudging hearts, shining the light on truth, suggesting redemptive scenarios people might not have imagined yet. We’re just wordsmiths, and yet language might be the lever that budges the planet into a different orbit.”

Alan Noble concluded his webinar with this summary: “If your work is truly for the good of your readers, have no shame in sharing it. You are not your writing. Expression is not the point. Your reputation and image are not the point. The good of your reader is the point.”

And then he tacked on this gem from T. S. Eliot, “Take no thought of the harvest, but only of proper sowing.”

So, here we are, Christians and writers. God has called us to write to his glory. To care for the good of the reader. When we write what the Holy Spirit lays on our hearts and minds, it is up to the Holy Spirit to impact the reader. It’s our job to share truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. To hone this gift and ensure that what we write is indeed “proper sowing.”

In his book, Scary Close, Donald Miller shared that when he was becoming too careful as a writer, he developed this manifesto:

• I am willing to sound dumb.
• I am willing to be wrong.
• I am willing to be passionate about something that isn’t perceived as cool.
• I am willing to express a theory.
• I am willing to admit I’m afraid.
• I’m willing to contradict something I’ve said before.
• I’m willing to have a knee-jerk reaction, even a wrong one.
• I’m willing to apologize.
• I’m perfectly willing to be perfectly human.

These are wise words to live by, to write by. Besides, as Aristotle is alleged to have warned, “There is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing.”

As Christian writers, saying nothing just isn’t an option. As we write, we can do so in the certainty that, as Ann-Margret pointed out, if we are being faithful and obedient to God in using our talents for His glory and pleasure, then, as Proverbs promises, we are safe.

To paraphrase Paul, let us write on toward the goal of serving our readers to win the prize of God’s heavenly calling in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:14).

That Story

by Chris Maxwell

We love writing stories people remember. 

A scene of the ocean as waves rush ashore in rhythm. A view of winter with snow covering the streets and a fireplace warming a family. A glance at a grin from bride and groom while they declare vows. 

What an honor to write those stories, to take people places through paper and screens, to guide eyes and minds into an encounter. Information and statistics help prove our cases. Quotes from trusted sources justify our arguments. But stories stick. They illustrate application. They offer an experience, an invitation, an opportunity.

Stories can shock us as the sad stat sheet turns into an example of a family grieving at the funeral home. Stories can motivate us to pursue more information about ways to rescue people who can’t find a method to pay for medication. Stories can lure us toward laughter as the grandparents tell stories of pictures in a photo album to their grandchildren at Christmas. 

In our tribe of Christian writers, we often create stories which we hope will offer encouragement. Even as we honestly reveal the conflict of our narratives, our beliefs bring a breath of reassurance.

We must be cautious, however, not to rush too quickly to the redemptive conclusion. The pain along the way has value. The greatest story ever told isn’t just about a resurrection. Crucifixion comes first. Blood is shed. Breathing stops. A crying Savior mumbles His meditative prayer from what, for us, is Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Before Resurrection Sunday comes Good Friday. And Jesus wants us to remember that story. 

He had gathered with His followers the previous week. They, as they often did and as we often do, ate together. He served bread and wine, declaring to them a tradition to begin, a story to tell, an encounter to experience. “Do this,” He said, “and remember me.”

Before we hurry to another submission or another assignment, let us hear Him. Let us listen as He says, “This is My body.” Let us pay attention to the ancient dialogue as He says, “This is my blood.”

Imagine us in the story and at the table. Not given instructions from our Teacher about better writing or proper grammar or future goals. But given bread to taste and wine to drink. Given words to receive rather than submit. Given nourishment for ourselves before hurrying it to another editor on our list of potential clients. 

Today, choose to be the client. The one loved. The one in the story. Dwell on the week, on the Thursday dinner, on a Friday we call Good, on a Saturday so silent. Stay there a while in that story. Stay there a while and be in the story. 

Slowly, very slowly, work your way to the Resurrection. Remind yourself, “He is risen.” Repeat and you reflect on your own life as someone loved by Him not matter how must or how often or how well you write, “He is risen indeed.”

We will write more stories. We will see them in print and online. We will receive payments. We will smile.

We will also receive rejections. By editors on our articles. By people on ourselves.

But today, step aside from the lists and the goals and the dreams. On purpose, refuse to be so driven. Remember. Remember His death. Remember His death for you.

Stay in that story. The death of your Savior.

Stay in that story. The Resurrection of your Lord.

Stay, remaining away just a while from the demands and the ambitions. Stay, with the story we believe is great. Stay, with the meaning of the bread and wine, of the cross and blood, of the death and Resurrection, of the ancient story and how we are transformed today.

Before we hurry to another submission or another assignment, let us hear Him.

Chris Maxwell served 19 years as lead pastor in Orlando, Florida, after five years of youth ministry. He’s now in his 15th year as Campus Pastor and Director of Spiritual Life at Emmanuel College. He speaks in churches, conventions, and schools, and is the author of ten books, including Pause With Jesus, Underwater, and a slow and sudden God: 40 years of wonder. His latest book is his 2nd collection of poems—embracing now: pain, joy, healing, living.

Epiphany: A bright thought & the real end of Christmas

by Stephen R. Clark

Christmas is greeted by many with excitement, by others with anxiety. Potential stressors include being thrown together with relatives that grate, dealing with the drudge of shopping, or just enduring non-stop Christmas music.

But whether you love or loathe Christmas, nearly everyone wants to know when it’s over.

Oh, you thought December 26 was it? Nope. The official last day of Christmas is traditionally January 6, which is called Epiphany.

However, the word and the day, Epiphany, hold a variety of nuanced meanings.

A light bulb called “Eureka!”

One of the meanings of epiphany is “a shining forth.”  The word initially referred to divine manifestations. However, over time, it also came to mean “a sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something.”

Frank Maier, a journalist, once wrote that he “experienced an epiphany, a spiritual flash that would change the way I viewed myself.” Irish novelist James Joyce is credited with first using the term this way in his novel Stephen Hero, which was a precursor to Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. He also used the term in Ulysses,where Stephen Dedalus muses, “Remember your epiphanies on green oval leaves, deeply deep, copies to be sent if you died to all the great libraries of the world, including Alexandria?”

For Joyce and others who use the word in this sense, it points to those often unanticipated and startling moments when something suddenly crashes into our consciousness with intense clarity. You know, those light-bulb-over-the-head moments. As J. K. Rowling explains, “There’s nothing better [than] when something comes and hits you and you think ‘YES’!”

For writers, epiphanies are coveted and eagerly sought after. As we craft an article or devotional, we hunger and thirst for the perfect “Aha!” image, phrase, or metaphor. That magic thing that will tie our words together, end our piece with a bang, and make our readers go, “Wow! This is an epiphany for me!”

On the thirteenth day of Christmas – Epiphany!

I had a tiny epiphany a few years ago when it dawned on me that I had managed to get through the entire Christmas season without once hearing “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me….” Amazing, eh?

The song traverses the full 12 days of Christmas, accumulating a plethora of laying hens, leaping lords, golden rings, calling birds, and a zoo’s worth of other livestock. Unfortunately, our culture only gifts on the 25^th. A real disappointment when I was a kid.

Epiphany, January 6, actually marks the true end of Christmas. The 12th day of Christmas is the day before Epiphany.

Some people leave their Christmas tree up until Epiphany, when, traditionally, it is supposed to be taken down and burned, or at least recycled.

All those other gifts accumulated from your “true love”? They can now be returned, put to work, shooed away, auctioned on eBay, or eaten.

We Three Kings a caroling

Epiphany is also known as Three Kings Day (or Festival of the Three Kings, or Adoration of the Magi). Viewed as the traditional day when the three wise men (magi) visited the baby Jesus, it also celebrates the Christmas star that guided them.

For some, Three Kings Day is as big or bigger than Christmas and involves even more gift-giving and great holiday food. In Bavaria, there is said to be a custom called “Star Singers,” where, from New Year’s through January 6, children dress as the three kings and go door to door caroling while holding up a large star. They are greeted at each home with money or treats, the money usually being given to charities.

According to The Christian Sourcebook (Ballantine, 1986), “Epiphany began in the Eastern Orthodox Church—perhaps as early as the third century—and originally was a celebration of Christ’s birth. In the fourth century, however, December 25 was declared Christmas, and Epiphany took on its current significance. Although Epiphany falls on January 6th, it is often observed on the first Sunday after the New Year.”

As I mentioned, the word epiphany derives from the Greek word for “appearance” or “manifestation” or “a shining forth.” So it makes sense that the Christian feast day by this name celebrates the revelation (theophany) of God incarnate as Jesus Christ. It is an acknowledgement of Emmanuel, God with us.

2020—what a long, strange trip you’ve been

So here we are, Epiphany 2021, fresh into another new year. In some respects, it feels good to say goodbye and good riddance to 2020, the year of COVID-19, massive wild fires, endless hurricanes, political madness, and so much more wackiness. It’s been a nauseating roller coaster of a year. Here’s hoping the new year brings less stress!

Still, the start of a new year is always a time of anticipating what adventure this way comes. What epiphanies lie ahead? What new insights will be gained?

In his book, Ambition and Survival: Becoming a Poet, Christian Wiman says, “Nature poets can’t walk across the backyard without tripping over an epiphany.” I believe the same could be said for Christian writers as we live out our faith, experiencing the woes and wows of this world. Nothing is a wasted moment; all moments are seeds of epiphanies that will yield new insights into the holy.

For Christian writers, now is a good time to reflect and process on what’s passed before. To glean the goodness of God that’s there and leave last year’s tares behind. As we lean into our spiritual journey, we can be sources of epiphanies for our readers.

As John Milton wrote, “Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.”

Lean into grace and gratitude and let Christ’s truth shine out from all you write.

I pray this year will be filled with awe-inspiring epiphanies as you continue to faithfully practice your God-given—and essential—craft of holy wordsmithing.

Highlight Reel

by Ann-Margret Hovsepian

A couple of years ago, this blog was just a gleam in our eye (which sometimes made me wonder if I needed to clean my glasses yet again) so it’s exciting to look back over the last year of activity on the Christian Freelance Writers Network blog. We weren’t sure whether it would take off and now we’ve already got material lined up for our readers for the next few months, so we’re not even close to running out of posts to share with you!

Some of you are new to this blog, so you may have missed the earlier posts. Today, to celebrate CFWN’s first anniversary, I’m going to highlight several posts you shouldn’t miss (or might want to revisit). Click on the titles to read the posts.

In no particular order…

The Best Way to Be Creative (It Involves Coffee) by Anita K. Palmer

As writers we tend to work in isolation. An original idea, though, most often does not come in a lightbulb moment. No “eureka!” Good ideas need a community.

5 Tips to Enrich Your Pitch by Randy Petersen

Is our breadth keeping us from finding a successful niche? Is our desire to be everything to everyone keeping us from being anything to anyone?

Three Essential Qualities by Jen Taggart

Having cerebral palsy has helped me to develop empathy, problem-solving skills, and humor. These three qualities are essential for anyone to have, especially a freelancer.

Pursue Excellence, Not Perfection by Ann-Margret Hovsepian

When we breathe God into the things we create and produce—when we do what we do with love and humility and generosity—we raise them from the level of “good” to “very good.”

5 Questions to Ask Before You Challenge Your Editor by Michael Foust

Imagine, for a moment, that your story is a triage unit, and you’re determining which patients need the most help.

Is Writing a Spiritual Gift? by Joyce K. Ellis

Just as some pastor-teachers use their gift in large congregations, others at racetracks, and others in children’s work, some of us use ours in print.

Ten “Its” for Writing Well by Stephen R. Clark

For many, writing well in a compressed period of time seems impossible. But you can write quickly and write well. 

Thank you for following our blog! We’d love it if you shared it with your writing friends, students, and groups.

P.S. To find more writing and freelancing tips, use the “Categories” or “Past Posts” lists on the right to access our archives.